


Friends in Need

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 7 (Megan Cousland / Revon Hawke / Alec Trevelyan) [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you need love. Sometimes you just need a good friend. And if that friend comes with a very special skillset, Megan Cousland certainly isn't going to complain. Because assassins excel at more than just killing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the men's turn to bathe first tonight. Megan couldn't even say what had prompted her to sneak after them and watch. Boredom, maybe, or idle curiosity, or plain old lust. It had been more than three months since she'd become a Warden, and almost as long since Duncan had died. And there'd been no one to share her bed since then, no one to help her deal with those urges that were getting more and more insistent. Warden appetites were no joke, and Maker, she was getting tired of her own hand!

Of course she hadn't missed the hopeful glances Alistair kept throwing in her direction, but for all her horniness, Megan wasn't ready to go there. She liked her fellow Warden well enough, but there was something about Alistair's sweet, clueless innocence that put her off. The last thing she needed at this point in her life was someone who would write her poems and give her flowers while gazing at her with lovelorn puppy eyes

No, what she needed was sex, plain and simple. No strings attached, no feelings getting in the way. More than a simple hook-up with a stranger, though. That would be too complicated, too risky, and besides, she preferred to at least know her partner. She needed something more permanent, and that wasn't easy to arrange while travelling all over the place. In the end, it pretty much came down to a choice between her companions, the male ones, to be precise. Leliana might have been interested as well, but Megan had never been particularly attracted to other women. What she wanted was a man. _Craving cock_. She made a face at the crudeness of the phrase, overheard from her father's guardsmen boasting about their conquests, when she'd been but a girl. Still, it was surprisingly accurate.

The guys were already at the water's edge when she arrived, getting out of their dusty, blood-spattered clothes before heading towards the little pool in the clearing.

Sten went first, disrobing quickly and methodically, his face completely impassive, as usual. Megan let her eyes wander down his massive chest, noting with approval the ripple of muscles in his abdomen, but when her gaze wandered lower, she just barely bit back a cry of shock. _Okay. There is such a thing as 'too big', after all._ Suddenly his cryptic remarks about the 'unpleasantness' of sleeping with a Qunari took on a whole new meaning. _And here I'd assumed he was just trying to get a rise out of Morrigan…_

Alistair was next, stumbling out of his clothes and making a dash for the water, too fast for her to make out any details. Megan rolled her eyes. _Really!_ It wasn't as if he had anything to hide. What she'd seen of his body so far was lovely, trim and well-muscled. And yet, he seemed embarrassed to show it off, blushing whenever someone drew attention to his impressive physique. No, whatever happened, Alistair was off limits.

With a sigh, Megan returned her attention to the scene before her, smiling when her eyes fell on Zevran. The Antivan was still relatively new to their party, but he'd already made himself indispensable in a fight, moving with a quick, silent grace that was beautiful to watch, if a little unnerving. He'd readily agreed to teach her some tricks when she'd asked him to, and she had already made huge progress. Megan liked his attitude, too, that mixture of insolence and perceptiveness, and she enjoyed the suggestive banter he brought to their campfire conversations. Yes, Zevran was good to have around.

And he was easy on the eyes as well. Megan watched appreciatively as he slowly took off his clothes, baring his perfect body inch by inch. It was a lovely view, all that smooth golden skin over long, lean muscle, accentuated by his elaborate tattoos. He stepped out of his smalls, stretching lasciviously, completely unconcerned about his nakedness, giving her all the time in the world to look her fill. It was almost as if he knew he was being watched.

And maybe he did. Megan swallowed when the realization hit her, but at the same time, she found that she didn't care. The sight of him, lithe and sleek and beautiful, made her throat go dry with want. She watched him as he shook out the long golden strands of his hair, then made his way to the water's edge and began to soap himself up. He always smelled so nice, not like the others, and his skin looked so soft. But then of course, he was an elf… How different were they really from humans, she wondered. He looked just the same from a distance, definitely big enough to satisfy her. And when he took hold of his cock and she saw that he was half-hard, it was all she could do not to moan aloud.

_Damn it! This is getting ridiculous!_ With a last, wistful look, she turned away, heading for the camp. As soon as she'd cleaned up herself, she would try and sort this out.

She went to see Zevran right after dinner. He had made himself comfortable at a little distance from the communal fire, carefully whetting and oiling his vicious looking daggers. When she walked up to him, he raised his head and looked at her expectantly.

"Zevran. When you offered to warm my bed, were you serious?" He raised an eyebrow and she blushed as she realized how abrupt she'd sounded. "Back when you attacked us and I said I'd let you live," she elaborated. "You offered me your services, and you said you'd-"

"Do you doubt it?" His gaze travelled slowly all over her body. "It would give me the greatest pleasure to share your bed. If you so desire."

Megan could have bit off her tongue. _Such a lousy attempt at seduction._ "I know what I desire. But only if-" She broke off impatiently. "Do you want me, Zevran? Yes or no?"

* * *

Zevran took a moment to consider his answer. Of course he'd noticed Megan's eyes on him lately, and he was pleased that she'd finally made her move. Still, he'd have to tread carefully. She wasn't one to be fooled by flattery, and she would detect the slightest attempt at dishonesty on his part.

"My dearest Warden. What kind of question is this?" He took her hand to pull her down to his side, thrilled to feel her shiver at his touch. "Have you bothered to look into a mirror recently? You are young and pretty, strong and dangerous. Of course I want you. However…" He hesitated, but she motioned for him to go on. "This is a little sudden, no? Why tonight?"

"I…" She swallowed. "No particular reason. I'm just horny, really." Her laugh was light, but he noticed she was avoiding his gaze. "It's a good thing you're here. I'm one step away from seducing Alistair, and that wouldn't end well."

"No," he agreed, making a face at the mere thought. "It wouldn't. So I take it you're no longer worried I might try to kill you?"

"I'm not stupid, Zevran!" Her green eyes were flashing passionately. "If you wanted to kill me, you'd have had a thousand opportunities by now."

"True." He grinned, delighted to have earned her trust. "Your tent or mine?"

"Mine is bigger." She sounded cool and practical again.

But, as soon as the tent flap closed behind them, she was in his arms, hot and willing, eagerly moulding herself against him. He kissed her, slow and gentle, nipping at her lips, while his hands traced soft circles on her back, but she made an impatient noise, wiggling out of his embrace.

"What is it?" He ran his hand lightly down her spine and was rewarded with a shudder and a gasp.

"Quit playing, Zev." Her eyes were large and almost feverish. "That's not what I need now."

"What do you need, then?" He smiled at her bluntness.

Megan's hands balled into fists and she almost whined with frustration. "I… How fast can you be inside me?"

He had never been able to resist a challenge. And though, given the choice, he preferred to take his time, he knew urgency when he saw it. Their clothes came off as quickly as he could make it, but even so she was shaking with desire by the time they were both naked. Megan didn't bother with subtle caresses, just pushed his head straight down where she wanted it. And she came practically the moment he put his mouth on her, came with a full-throated cry that was music to his ears, thrashing so hard he had to use all his strength to hold her down.

Patiently, he licked her through it, relishing the quivering of her hot flesh under his tongue. As soon as he dared, he slid a finger inside her, then a second, and she felt so _good_ , hot and slick and tight, pushing herself into his grip, eager for more.

"Zevran!" When he glanced up, she was scowling at him. "Please. _Now_!"

Before he could stop her, her hand was wrapped around his throbbing cock, guiding him where she wanted him, and he almost lost it. Almost, but not quite. Swatting her hand aside with a growl, he took charge again, burying himself inside her to the hilt in one smooth stroke.

Megan cried out again, clenching hard around him, her whole body coming up to meet him. "Oh Maker, yes!"

Zevran had to pause for a moment to regain control, overcome by the look of sheer bliss on her face. When he began to move, she matched him stroke for stroke, urging him on with little frantic whispers that soon turned into incoherent sighs. He watched in awe as she came undone, until he could no longer hold back himself, until raw need took over and he began pounding into her, hard and fast, holding on to just enough sanity to make sure he didn't lose her.

He needn't have worried. Just when he thought he couldn't go on any longer, she dug her nails into his back with a final, hoarse scream, pushing him impossibly deep inside her. And he let go, allowing the pleasure to take him, a wave of sweet, sweet relief washing all over him, both of them, so good, so utterly perfect. _Brasca. It's been too long._ He had nearly forgotten how good this could be.

And then it was over, and he rolled on his back, still panting. Megan followed him with a swift, graceful move, making herself comfortable in the nook of his arm, her chin on his chest.

"Maker, but I needed that." She sounded happy and relaxed, and her face was so cat-like in its satisfaction that it made him laugh.

"Glad to be of service." Zevran caught a strand of her red-gold hair in his hand, admiring its sheen in the dim light of the oil lamp. "I take it you were content with my efforts?"

"Stop fishing for compliments." She gave him a mocking glare. "You know damn well it was great. Amazing. Mind-blowing. Whatever you want to hear. And I certainly wouldn't mind a repeat performance, if you're game."

"Any time, my dear Warden. This has been my pleasure just as much as yours."

There was no need to fake the sincerity in his voice. True, he'd been with more women than he could count, and some of them had been far more beautiful or skilled than her. But none of them had ever matched Megan's frank enthusiasm for the act. Here was a woman who enjoyed sex just as much as he did, and who wasn't scared to admit it – a rarity for one so young, and one he much appreciated.

"Good to hear." She yawned softly, her fingers playing idly with his nipple ring. "It will be good to have a chance to blow off steam now and then."

"Ah, so very pragmatic, my dear." He sighed theatrically, unable to resist the temptation to tease her. " _Blowing off steam_. Tsk. Is that all I am to you? A means to an end?"

She refused to be baited, though, shaking her head. "Come off it, Zev. I like you, a lot. And I consider you a friend. But I won't pretend to be in love with you. Love isn't something I can afford right now. This is just sex."

She was right, of course. And it wasn't as if _he_ was ready to commit to anyone. Still, it gave him a pang to hear her say it. "Is there no one who has ever touched your heart then, _cara_? No one at all?"

"There was someone." Megan sighed briefly, a flash of sadness crossing her freckled face. "But I'm not even sure I'll ever see him again. Besides, with everything that's happened… If we ever meet again, things will be different. We will be different. I don't even know-" She broke off. "It doesn't matter. Will you be there if I need you?"

"Of course. I am your man, without reservation, remember?" He flashed her a cheeky grin. "I'm sworn to serve you. And this…" Pulling her up, he caught her lips again in a long, slow kiss. "This is a service I'll be only too happy to perform."


	2. Chapter 2

"Bann Teagan? Are you-" Megan broke off, visibly embarrassed.

Zevran couldn't blame her. The last time they had seen Arl Eamon's brother, the Bann of Rainesfere had been a mere puppet, jerked about willy-nilly by a vicious desire demon. It had been painful to watch him dance and caper like a fool.

"I am myself again, thank you, Lady Megan." A small muscle under Teagan's eye was twitching nervously, but he seemed otherwise composed. "And very grateful to you and your companions. But what in the Maker's name shall we do about Connor?"

Megan walked over to the window, gazing out over the lake with unseeing eyes. "We will have to deal with him tomorrow. I need a little rest before making a decision."

"Of course, my lady." Teagan executed a quick, flawless bow in her direction. "You've done enough for one day."

Zevran tended to agree. The fight for the castle had been a nightmare, and Megan had been in the thick of it most of the time, her daggers whirling too fast for the eye to follow. And now that they had finally put an end to the invasion of undead corpses, they still had to sort out how to deal with the Arl's possessed son.

Two quick steps took him to Megan's side. "You look exhausted, my Warden. Exhausted and sad." Slipping his arm around her, he pulled her close so he could whisper in her ear. "Meet me in the Arl's study tonight, and I'll find something to cheer you up."

She didn't reply, but she nodded, almost too fast for anyone to see, a small smile playing around her lips.

It was almost midnight when she finally joined him in the study. The room managed to be both huge and overstuffed with furniture, heavy Fereldan pieces made from dark wood, the atmosphere further stifled by thick curtains. Zevran had chosen the Arl's very own armchair to sprawl in, a monstrosity large enough to serve as a throne with a velvet seat cushion, the armrests carved to look like mabari heads.

"Why here?" Megan threw him an amused glance as she settled in his lap.

Zevran offered her a feral grin in return. "Ah, I'm sorry, _cara_. Fereldan nobles bring out the worst in me. This room is just begging to be desecrated, don't you think?"

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" She smiled back just as maliciously before meeting his lips in a long, slow kiss.

It had been several weeks since they'd first made love, and she had turned out to be just as talented a student in bed as she was on the sparring grounds. Not that she'd exactly been an innocent before, but he had enjoyed teaching her more refined pleasures. And she was happy to benefit from his experience and his Crow training, curious to find out what he liked best. He sighed contentedly when she caught the tip of his sensitive ear between her fingers, gently massaging it. The sensation went straight to his groin, making his cock twitch in response.

Megan smiled, wiggling closer against him. For once, they weren't wearing armour, just leather pants and shirts, and it was nice, being able to feel the warmth of her body through the thin linen, grinding himself against her with a slow roll of his hips until he was fully hard.

"Maybe you could do something about this?" He took her hand and moved it down to the bulge in his pants.

"Maybe I should," she agreed, sliding downward until she was settled on the floor between his legs, her hands stroking his thighs in soft, steady circles. She was driving him mad, with her full pink lips just inches from his cock, only separated by a thin layer of leather, and she knew it.

"Please." Zevran guided her hand to his laces, and she complied with a low chuckle.

Moments later he was bare, and she was taking hold of his cock, rubbing her cheek affectionately against the smooth skin. "You look good enough to eat."

"Feel free." He grinned back at her. "Just be careful with your teeth."

She winked at him as her lips closed around him, and Maker, her mouth was perfect, hot and moist and… His hands gripped the armrests hard to stop himself from bucking up. Megan pulled back just long enough to place a quick kiss on him and to snake one hand between his legs to cup his balls, then she was back, sucking gently, then with more insistence. He cursed under his breath, trying to decide whether to stop her or to just let her go on. So tempting to just enjoy the way her tongue flicked against him, to lie back and let her take him to a climax that promised to be exquisite…

"This way." Bann Teagan's deep voice, just around the corner, made them both jump.

In a heartbeat, Zevran was on his feet, tucking himself away and looking for a hiding place. Megan was a step ahead, taking his hand and dragging him behind a curtain, biting back a giggle as she did so. Her slim body was hot against his, her scent filling his nostrils. They only just managed to make sure the curtain covered them both completely before the Bann entered the study, Alistair in tow.

They were only a few yards away, and Zevran found that he had a surprisingly good view through a slit in the curtain. Teagan didn't seem bothered by the lit lamp on the desk. Walking over to a heavy armoire, he took out a bottle of what looked to be brandy and poured two glasses.

"Alistair. I believe we need to talk." He took a deep sip, handing the second glass to Alistair, who nodded, looking wary and vaguely uncomfortable.

Teagan motioned to two chairs near the fireplace, picking the larger one for himself. "It's about the poor dear Cousland girl. Much as I'm relieved she's still alive, I have to confess I was horrified to meet her under such… violent circumstances."

Alistair looked confused for a moment. "The poor- Oh. You mean Megan. But surely, if you're worried about her, you should talk to her, not to me."

"And I will, don't you doubt it." The Bann looked grim. "However, I thought it might be wise to discuss it with you first. You are of course aware that in the absence of her brother she is the rightful heir to the Cousland fortune?"

To Zevran's surprise, Alistair shook his head, standing up straight, though it was obviously not easy for him to confront the Bann. "Beg your pardon, ser, but that's not true. Megan is a Warden now. Besides, Arl Howe has seized all her family's assets."

"Yes, yes." Teagan waved his hand dismissively. "As soon as Eamon is better, we'll have to see what can be done about Howe. And of course, we'll have to deal with this Warden business. Surely you see that this cannot be allowed to continue. The Cousland family is one of the oldest in the country, and if it were to die out-"

Alistair's face took on a curious expression, something halfway between stubborn and defiant. "I'm sorry, ser. But the process of becoming a Warden is irreversible. Besides…" He took a deep breath. "We need Megan. Ferelden needs her. Without her, we might not be able to stop the Blight. And if we fail-"

"I'm well aware how catastrophic that would be, Alistair." Teagan was rubbing his jaw, looking displeased. "Still… Ah, well. Maybe Lady Megan will be more amenable to reason than you are."

_I wouldn't count on that if I were you._ Zevran was glad that his grin was hidden by the heavy curtain folds. Next to him, Megan inhaled sharply, and he pressed her hand tight.

"Either way," Teagan continued, "she must be made to see that her current behaviour is not acceptable for a lady of her station. Is it true what I've heard about her and the Antivan?"

"I don't know, ser. What have you heard?" Alistair's face was a picture of innocence, but Zevran knew him well enough by now to detect the growing tension in his posture. _He doesn't like this any more than I do._

"That he's her lover." Teagan looked positively disgusted. "Maker's balls, Alistair! What is the girl thinking? To throw herself away on an Antivan assassin, an elf to boot – if we're very lucky, we can keep the news from spreading, or she won't have any marriage prospects to speak of, once this is over."

Alistair sighed. "Look, you really have to talk to Megan about this. I don't think she'll listen, though, to be honest. And as for her marrying and carrying on the Cousland name…" He bit his lip. "You'd better pray that her brother shows up again, is all I'm saying."

Teagan responded with a resigned sigh, but seemed to be willing to let the topic rest. The two men stayed a few minutes longer, exchanging inconsequential gossip, but then they finally left.

Zevran exhaled deeply once the door closed behind them. Next to him, Megan almost snorted with relief.

"What a load of tripe." She made a face, trying to disentangle herself from the curtain. "Teagan really needs to mind his own business."

* * *

Megan's chest felt tight, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the lack of fresh air in her hiding place, or because of Bann Teagan's patronizing manner. _Poor dear girl, indeed._ Without her, they would still be huddling in the chantry, waiting for the army of undead to finish them off.

"Wait." Zevran carefully lifted the heavy fabric so she could step out into the open again. "I don't know, my Warden. Maybe I was too obvious with my affections. I apologize, and I will be more discreet in the future."

"What?" Megan shook her head, irritated beyond belief. "You mean, because of _Teagan_? He can stuff it, Zev. I'll sleep with whomever I damn well please."

Teagan's words had made her furious, not just because he thought she should behave like a proper noble damsel, but also because of the way he had talked about Zevran. Even though she'd only known him for a few months, Megan had become incredibly close to the assassin. Zevran and she were alike in so many ways, and they had so much fun together, in and out of bed, that she honestly didn't care about his past any more. He was one of her merry band of misfits now, and whoever wanted to attack or criticize him would have to go through her.

"He is correct, though, isn't he?" Zevran was obviously doing his best to sound reasonable. "Once this is over, you will have to marry and carry on your family name."

"Not going to happen. You see…" Megan threw a quick glance at the door, to make sure no one was listening. "Technically, I guess I'm not allowed to tell you, but you have as much right to know as anyone. Wardens can't have children. It's a side effect of the Joining." Zevran's face plainly showed his surprise, and she quickly went on. "I stopped bleeding shortly after Ostagar, so I went to see Morrigan. I was actually afraid I might be pregnant, but no. It makes sense, you know. You wouldn't want to fight darkspawn with a baby in your belly."

"Still, you're so young…" There was an odd inflection in his voice. "Does this happen to every Warden?"

"Yes." Megan nodded. "Not equally fast, apparently. Sometimes it takes a little longer, especially with the men. But as a general rule, Wardens don't have kids. End of story." Noticing the look on his face, she rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I've never really wanted children all that much, Zev. I'm fine." And it was true. _Though, maybe with the right person…_ She had to pause for a moment when the memories rose to the surface, of Nathaniel, of their plans to get married. But she chased them away as quickly as she could. "Anyway, Alistair is right. If we don't stop the Blight, we'll have far bigger problems to deal with than the loss of the precious Cousland bloodline. Besides, Fergus might still be alive. My brother is tougher than most people think."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she glanced over at the armchair. "Now, I believe we were in the middle of decidedly more pleasant activities when we were interrupted. Care to pick up where we left off?"

He hesitated barely a moment before his lips were on hers again, and she moaned happily, glad to be distracted. Zevran's kisses were like nothing she'd ever experienced before, skilled and teasing, but at the same time so very intense, so full of genuine, deep enjoyment. Whenever he kissed her, she lost track of everything else. Before she knew it, she was half naked in his arms, the laces of her shirt undone to bare her breasts. He laughed softly, taking a nipple between his lips, his hands already tugging at her pants.

When Zevran dropped back into the chair, dragging her with him, she straddled him eagerly, whining with delight when his hand found its way between her legs to caress her. He always knew how Megan needed to be touched, as if her body was an open book to him. She'd actually asked him how he did it, during one of the first nights they had spent together.

He'd just shrugged. "It all comes down to being observant, _cara_. Watching your responses, adapting my touch. It's a skill to be learned, like many others."

Megan disagreed. To her mind, there could be no doubt that he was particularly gifted when it came to making love. His hands were lighting a fire along her skin, making her burn with need, and already she was so wet and hungry for him she couldn't wait, fiddling impatiently with his laces.

He seemed to agree that it was time, quickly freeing himself from the constricting material. His cock was hard and hot in her hands, the taut skin smooth like the finest silk, a tiny drop of liquid forming at the tip.

"Zev. Tell me you want me." Her throat was almost too tight to say the words.

"I always want you." The passion in his voice made her tremble. "Come."

He carefully aligned her, gripping her hips tight as she slowly sank down on his cock, and he felt so good inside her, filling her inch by delicious inch. _So marvellous_. He was shaking with desire, too, and it filled her with incredible joy to be wanted, to be needed. Just her, not the heiress to the Cousland name, not the Warden who would save them all. Just the woman. Just Megan.

There was a world of affection in his gaze when he paused, once he was fully lodged inside her, to check on how she was doing. "All right?"

She nodded, unable to speak, and he smiled happily, leaning back to allow her to move freely. "Go on, _cara_. I'm all yours."

Instinctively she tightened around him, receiving a broken moan in response. Encouraged by his reaction, Megan rolled her hips in a slow circle, then picked up speed, using the chair's arms as leverage to ride him harder. Zevran seemed to love it all. He completely abandoned himself to her, let her do whatever she wanted, tease him, rub herself against him, take her pleasure from him any way she wanted.

She could feel the growing tension in him, though, almost imperceptible at first, but then more pronounced, until he felt as taut as a bowstring under her hands, making her wonder how he kept control. It was so utterly beautiful to see him like this, and even better when his control finally snapped and he grabbed her hard by the neck, pulling her into a punishing kiss, stealing the breath from her lips. His hips snapped up once, twice, and he felt so good inside her that without further prompting she was coming, right along with him, their bodies joined as closely as they could be. For one fleeting, glorious moment it was easy to imagine that what the bards sang about was true, those pretty lays about a one true love that would never end, about finding the perfect mate and never letting go.

And then it was over, and she met his eyes, fluttering with sudden exhaustion, and Megan knew with painful clarity that it was just an illusion, that they could never be that for each other. As much as she liked him, as much as she adored what he was doing to her body, it would never be him. They were friends, nothing more, friends who took care of each other and gave each other a moment of peace and happiness.

Nothing more than that. But it was enough for now.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Lady Megan? Might I have a word?" Bann Teagan's expression was friendly and respectful, but the mere memory of what she'd overheard last night made Megan tense up inside.

Only sheer force of habit made her remain polite. "Of course, Bann Teagan. What is it?"

She led Teagan to a window alcove, away from the ears of the company assembled around the breakfast table.

To his credit, once they were alone, Teagan hesitated, clearly loath to broach the delicate subject. "I… You may not remember, Lady Megan, but I was there on the night of your first big ball, several years ago."

Megan raised an eyebrow, but motioned for him to continue. She was pretty sure she knew where this was going.

Teagan cleared his throat. "You had just turned sixteen, I believe, and you looked incredibly sweet in your white dress, young and pretty and unspoiled by courtly intrigues."

 _'Unspoiled' being the operative word here._ Megan's eyes narrowed and her hands clenched into fists as she fought to keep calm.

Yet, Teagan seemed oblivious. "Everyone's eyes were upon you, and many among the banns and arls were considering how best to approach your father about you once you reached marriageable age." He chuckled, lost in the memory. "I believe I may have been one of them."

 _Oh Maker!_ Megan shuddered _. Imagine if I was married to him now!_ Sure, Teagan was as friendly and honourable as they got, and he meant well in his own way. But, after the months she'd spent as a Warden, struggling against the Blight, traveling with her band of companions, she herself had changed so much. No matter how rough their life was, it had given her a taste of freedom, and the attitudes and values Teagan expressed made her want to hurl.

"I'm sorry, Bann Teagan," was all she said aloud, "but, I really fail to see what this has to do with our current situation."

He had the grace to blush a little. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought this up. It's just… You were so different back then, and I can't help compare that sweet, pure little wildflower to-"

"Enough!" Megan couldn't bear to listen to this any longer.

For a fleeting moment, she was tempted to throw the truth in Teagan's face. She, too, remembered the night of the ball, but in quite a different manner. _Her_ fondest memories were of Nate's hungry kisses out in the garden after everyone had left, his eager hands pushing up the skirts of her ball gown, his moans when he found her wet and wanting. What would Teagan say if he knew she hadn't been all that pure, even back then?

But no, it was no use shattering his illusions. Still, she wasn't going to stand for his interference.

"We're in the middle of a Blight, Bann Teagan. Your nephew is possessed by a demon, your brother is dying, Redcliffe lies in ruins." She let a deliberate icy edge sneak into her tone. "Even if my love life was any of your business in the first place, it should be the least of your troubles now. Even if I'm damaged goods in your eyes-"

Teagan interrupted her, looking genuinely offended at her choice of words. "I didn't mean to imply anything of that kind, Lady Megan." He was obviously struggling to find the right words. "You were in a difficult situation after your parents' death, and I, for one, would be willing to overlook any… indiscretions."

 _"What?"_ Megan couldn't believe her ears.

So Teagan's interest in her went beyond fatherly concern, even now! She had never imagined he would still be interested in marrying her, though, from his point of view, it probably made sense. Not that the Landsmeet would ever agree to such a match. A union between Arl Eamon’s loyal brother and the heiress presumptive of the Cousland fortune would mean far too much potential power in the hands of the Guerrins. Then again, with chaos reigning and civil war looming, there was no telling what was possible or not.

Even the thought of becoming a pawn in this kind of political scheming gave her a headache. Not for the first time, Megan thanked her lucky stars for the twist of fate that had taken her away from all of this.

"That is out of the question, Bann Teagan." Instinctively, she took a step backwards. "I am a Warden. I am no longer a _lady_ , no longer a desirable match for anyone. Please stop thinking of me that way."

Teagan looked genuinely shocked. "But, my dear Lady Megan, just think of what your parents would say-"

"My parents are gone." Megan's patience was wearing thin. "And I'd be grateful if you didn't bring them up to make your point. Now, we have a situation on our hands that requires all of our focus. What can we do about Connor?"

She managed to steer Teagan back to the others. Arlessa Isolde proved useful for once when she produced a young mage called Jowan from the dungeons. Not only did he turn out to be the one who'd poisoned the Arl, he also was eager to make amends and to help them save the boy.

But, when Jowan outlined his plan to use blood magic in order to enter the Fade and kill the demon, Megan categorically refused. "Blood magic? Honestly? When has that ever been a good idea?"

"I'd never use an unwilling victim's blood," Jowan hastened to assert. "But, if anyone should volunteer-"

"Of course! Take me!" Isolde didn't even wait to hear the details. Dropping to her knees before Jowan, she held up her arms in a pathetic gesture of surrender. "My blood is yours. If it's the only way to save my baby, I'll gladly die."

Megan exchanged a quick glance with Zevran who shrugged in a gesture of poor nonchalance. It was obvious _he_ wouldn't object to this solution. But Megan shook her head.

"No. I won't let you do that to your child. There's got to be a better way." Ignoring Isolde's pleas, she motioned for Teagan to keep her silent. "Can't you think of another solution, Jowan?"

Jowan hummed and hawed, but finally admitted that the ritual didn't necessarily call for blood, and that they could ask the Circle Tower for magical help instead.

"Then that's what we'll do." Megan smiled mirthlessly. "Fortunately the First Enchanter owes me a favour. Quick, send him a message."

"But that will take time!" Isolde wailed. "And my baby-"

"Connor is doing fine, my lady." Jowan looked pale, but his voice was calm. "He won't die before the mages get here, don't you worry."

 _Not before they get here, no._ Megan didn't voice the thought aloud. If the worst should come to worst… "Calm down, everyone." She raised her voice, doing her best to sound confident. "Everything's going to be all right. All we need to do now is wait for Irving and his mages to arrive."

When evening approached, Megan scrounged a few rolls and a spicy sausage from the kitchen and took her loot up to Redcliffe Castle’s battlements for a solitary meal. She didn't fancy having dinner in Isolde's and Teagan's company, and it was nice to get away from it all for a while.

In the wake of the attacks, there weren't nearly enough guards left to properly patrol the battlements, so she didn't expect to be disturbed. The view of the ruined village was an unpleasant reminder of the horrors they'd all been through, but, in the distance, the water of the lake was gleaming red and golden in the late afternoon sun, as beautiful as the richest jewels her father had owned.

Megan took a large bite from the sausage, relishing the savoury taste. _Well, at least the Arl’s cook hasn’t been turned into a walking corpse. Small graces_. She made a face at the thought. So many dead, such a horrible way to go. And the ordeal wasn't over. Megan was determined to save Connor, if there was any way, any way at all to free him from his demonic possession. But despite her brave words earlier on, she was under no illusions as to their chances. In all probability they would have to kill the child, and the mere thought made her feel sick to her stomach.

Besides, she was still mad at Teagan for his attempt to woo her in the middle of all this. _Talk about inappropriate timing!_ On the other hand, Alistair's attitude last night had really warmed her heart. No matter how shy and prudish her fellow Warden might be, no matter how simplistic his worldview might seem at times, he was a good and loyal friend, and Megan wouldn't forget how he'd stood up for her. And of course, Zevran had done his best to banish all irritation from her mind afterwards.

As if on cue, she heard the familiar cadence of the assassin's steps approach, light and soft, but still clearly audible on the creaky wooden stairs. Which meant he wanted to be noticed, of course. She went to meet him, and he joined her at the stone balustrade overlooking the courtyard.

"My Warden. I was worried." His tone was soothing, and Megan gladly allowed him to embrace her from behind. It was a little chilly up here, and for all his complaints about the Fereldan weather, Zevran was always warm, always a source of comfort. It was as if the heat of the sun was permanently trapped in his golden skin.

He didn't talk, just stood there with her in companionable silence, watching the people of Redcliffe come and go in the courtyard, going about their business as if nothing bad had ever happened. The sun was about to set, and the light was already fading, so everyone in the castle was getting ready to prepare for the night. Up here, on their vantage point overlooking the courtyard, it was quiet and peaceful, and no one seemed to have noticed them at all.

Megan was getting a teensy bit bored, and was about to suggest they leave when a small side door opened and Bann Teagan walked out into the yard. Arlessa Isolde was clinging to his arm, talking intently, her shrill voice discernible even at this distance, though Megan couldn't make out individual words. _Which is no great loss, probably_.

Seeing Teagan down there, solicitously listening to Isolde's mindless chatter, Megan was struck by a sudden crazy impulse. Leaning back against Zeran, she brushed her lips against his cheek and purred softly into his ear. “Zev? I want you inside me, right now.”

She was close enough to feel the immediate response of his body, to hear his breathing speed up. "Of course, my Warden." There was the faintest tremor in his voice, too. "Let's head to your room."

Megan shook her head decisively. She knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed, and her room wouldn't do. “No. Here. Right here.”

* * *

Zevran held his breath at her daring suggestion. The courtyard wasn't overly busy, but there were still a number of people milling around, in addition to Teagan and the Arlessa. “Are you serious, _cara_? If anyone should happen to look up-"

“Let them see.” Megan's expression was defiant. “I'm a Warden, not some prim and proper little lady. Go ahead. I know you want to.”

She ground herself back against him, and he groaned sharply. But he still hesitated until she spun around in his arms and dropped to her knees, going straight for the laces of his pants. Before he could even muster the strength to protest, she had already freed his cock and taken him between her lips. And her mouth felt so good, so hot and sweet, as she quickly sucked him to full hardness, moaning around him as she did so. _Maker have mercy_!

Zevran hadn't expected any of this when he came to see Megan, and now he was struggling for control at the mere sight of her. She looked utterly debauched and sensual like this, her lips stretched around him, her eyes flashing with passion, and he _wanted_ her so badly he could barely see straight.

Pulling her up, he kissed her hard, eager to taste himself on her lips. _More_. He craved to touch more of her, now, without delay. Her leather armour made things a little awkward, but he managed to push her leggings down far enough that he could touch her and run his fingers through her soaked curls. She mewled into his mouth, and he caressed her feverishly, using all his skill to make her burn just as hotly as he did. It didn't take long until she was ready for him. With one swift move, he spun her around and bent her over the balustrade, then thrust smoothly inside her.

Megan stifled a cry, trembling around him like a leaf. He gripped her hips hard, and she braced herself against the wall for balance, clearly expecting this to be rough and fast. But that was not how he wanted it, he realized. What he wanted was to spin out the delicious risky sensation as long as he could, to keep her teetering on the edge between lust and fear of being caught as she pictured in her head what would happen if someone stumbled upon them.

"Imagine," Zevran breathed in her ear, holding her tightly to his chest while he rolled his hips against her. "Imagine some poor young guard soldier walking in on us now."

"Zev! You-" Megan whined, her head twisting back in a desperate attempt to silence him with a kiss.

But, he went on, savouring the quiver of her flesh around him as he spoke. "Ah, _cara_ , what would you do? Would you panic?" He pulled back, then pushed even deeper inside her, still moving with excruciating slowness. "Or would you tell him to watch closely and report to the Bann in detail?"

Her sharp intake of breath told him all he needed to know. She was dripping wet, too, so sweet, so hot, driven to distraction by the suggestions he whispered in her ear.

"Do you see the blacksmith's wife, down there, right next to the stables? Look!" Megan's eyes flew open at his command, and she gave a small affirmative whimper. "What if she should happen to hear those delectable little noises you're making? What if she starts wondering where they come from?"

Again, he moved, and again Megan couldn't keep silent. But, if he was honest, Zevran was having a hard time holding on to his fraying control as well. It was just too exciting to have her like this, in view of the whole castle, like a common servant girl.

"You like the idea of being watched, don't you?" Another thrust, sharp and to the point now, and Megan grew taut in his arms, already on the brink of ecstasy, unravelling faster than he would have thought possible. "Look, Teagan is getting ready to leave. Imagine him looking up, right now, and seeing your face as you come in my arms."

Her head flew back against his shoulder, and this time his mouth was there to stifle her cry, as she shuddered violently, no longer able to stay on her feet without his help. Propping her up against the balustrade, he let go, pounding hard into her soft, yielding flesh until he, too, found his release, managing to keep silent only thanks to long years of practice.

No one had noticed them. No one saw them returning to their quarters. But, he wasn't done with her yet. And he was pretty sure the servants heard each and every one of her cries later that night.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to add that I really, really love Teagan. Two of my Wardens actually succumbed to his considerable charms, but he's really not Megan's cup of tea. Apologies to all fans of the Bannhammer ;)


	4. Chapter 4

"It's over." Try as she might, Megan couldn't keep the self-satisfied smirk off her face as she walked into her chamber. "Connor is free, and Morrigan is back, trying to get some rest. And no one had to die for it."

"Ah, the ritual." Zevran was lying naked on her bed and playing idly with his dagger. "I take it the witch volunteered for the task of fighting the demon in the Fade?" He just barely suppressed a bored yawn.

"Yes." Megan felt a tinge of irritation as she took off her boots and pants and got ready to join him on the bed, dressed in nothing but her smalls and her linen shirt. "And, I'm glad she did. I'm not sure Jowan would have had the nerve to go through with it. Morrigan, on the other hand… She almost seemed to enjoy the challenge."

"I bet she did." Zevran's smile didn't reach his eyes. He ran a probing hand along the edge of the blade. "You know, I almost pity the demon."

Megan snorted. "Anyway, it all went really well. I knew there was no need to resort to murder and blood magic."

She threw him a pointed look. If things had gone Zevran's way, they would have simply killed Connor, or at least accepted Isolde's offer to sacrifice herself. Megan, for her part, was utterly relieved it hadn't come to that. She didn't mind killing darkspawn and bandits, but it was a different thing altogether to have the blood of innocents on her hands. Zevran had no such scruples, and he'd been uncommonly vocal about his disapproval, up to the point where he'd left in a huff, refusing to have any part in the ritual.

He still didn't seem particularly convinced now, glaring back at Megan with a moue of distaste. “Suit yourself, _cara_. I just don't see why we had to go to so much trouble when there were so many easier ways of dealing with the problem.” He tossed the dagger nonchalantly into the air, catching it and balancing it on its tip in the palm of his hand.

“Oh, Maker's balls, Zevran!” In a sudden fit of fury, Megan snatched the dagger from him and rammed it almost an inch deep into the top of their nightstand where it remained, quivering slightly in the wood. “Really? Does it ever occur to you to look for a solution apart from killing someone or having sex with them?”

Zevran shrugged. “What's wrong with that? May I remind you that you're usually quite happy with my approach to problem solving, my dear Warden?” He lay back, stretching to display his magnificent body, and threw her a suggestive glance through thick, blond lashes. “So… Which one is it going to be tonight?”

“You are impossible.” Megan rolled her eyes at him, torn between anger and amusement.

“I am,” he agreed, extending a hand to stroke her cheek. When she snarled at him, he laughed. “But, you are just the same, _dolcezza_. You are just like me, no?”

He cupped her face, firmly and decisively, and pulled her closer, so close she could feel his breath on her skin, warm and cinnamon-sweet. Tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue, he ran his other hand up her thigh, smiling knowingly when she shuddered with sudden desire. “So what shall it be? Will you kill me…” Zevran tilted his head toward the dagger, buried in the wood right next to them. “Or will you fuck me?” He swiftly pushed her smalls aside, and of course she was sopping wet already, turned on by his words and his touch and the thought of what he would do to her.

Megan whimpered with need. How this could be so infuriating and so arousing at the same time was beyond her. But, she wasn't quite ready to give in yet. “I don't know.” Unable to resist, she ground herself against his grip, but at the same time, she grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back, savouring his brief grimace of pain. “Right now I can't decide, to be honest. I want both.” Without further warning, she bit down hard on his lip.

Zevran's eyes went wide and his tongue darted out to lick off the blood. “You little minx!”

He was just as fast as she was, and quite a bit stronger, so when he flipped her over and held her down with his body, she had no choice but to surrender. With a triumphant laugh, he took hold of her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand while the other one tore off her shirt. The sudden skin contact made them both gasp, the heat of his skin against hers, the slide of flesh against flesh, the way her nipples grew taut when his hand brushed against them.

Megan moaned, rubbing herself shamelessly against his crotch, sliding against his hard cock, and he faltered, his grip loosening just enough to allow her to free one of her hands. Megan didn't waste her chance. Quick as lightning, she let it dart down, gripping his balls just tightly enough to make him flinch. “Got you.”

"Brasca!" Zevran gasped for air, looking at her with a mixture of awe and concern. “You do. I yield, Warden. You win.”

But, just as she'd let go of him and moved her hand to his waist, he bent down and clamped his teeth around her nipple, making her scream as a glorious mixture of pain and pleasure soared through her. “You shifty Antivan bastard!”

"Ah, _cara_ , you know I don't play fair." Zevran's smug grin stoked her fury again, and she bucked up against him, burying her nails deep in his flesh.

He yelped, but he didn't let go of her. His hands were suddenly everywhere on her body, his touch rough, bordering on brutal, sending her arousal spiralling higher and higher. Megan gave as good as she got, scratching and biting and hissing at him, yet never making any real effort to push him away. He wasn't holding her down any longer, knowing full well there was no need to, because she wanted him so badly now. The throbbing between her legs had become so strong it was drowning out all reason. And her frantic touches and bites had the same effect on him, judging from how impossibly hard he was against her core. His usually smooth movements were uncharacteristically jerky, his breathing rough and uneven.

When he spread her wide and thrust inside her, she bit him again, tasting the sharp metal tang of his blood, whining against his shoulder because it was so good to be full of him, to have him inside her, thick and hard and pulsing with need. He hardly seemed to feel the sting as he settled on top of her, forcing her into a fast and furious rhythm. It was almost too much, he almost lost her, but then his hand was at her core and he touched her, _rubbed_ her, quick and rough, without any attempt at refinement.

Megan came with a scream, sharp and sudden, her whole body going rigid with the force of it, and Zevran followed her without a second's delay. One last time, she drove her nails into his back, one last time, she cried out in pain and anger and lust, and then it was over.

* * *

They were both panting, both of them battered and bruised and bone-deep exhausted. Zevran knew Megan quite well by now, and he hadn't missed the notes of genuine anger and despair behind their savage coupling. And, while he appreciated the extra spice this had added to their lovemaking, he knew there had to be more behind her sudden surge of rage than just irritation at his flippancy.

As soon as he could trust his voice to be appropriately calm and soothing, he turned to face her. “Now, _cara_ , why were you so mad at me? I can't believe you've grown so attached to the Arl's wife that you felt she couldn't be spared.”

“It's not that.” Megan made a face. “Isolde can go to the deeper end of the Void, for all I care. No, I did it for Connor.”

Zevran nodded slowly, as the first hint of understanding dawned on him. “For the boy… I confess that I wondered when you told Isolde you _weren't going to let her do this to her son_. I blamed my imperfect command of your Fereldan tongue, but-"

Megan shook her head. "No. I meant exactly what I said. I don't want him to live his whole life knowing his mother sacrificed herself for his sake. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.”

There was so much vehement passion in her tone that it made him pause. “Ah. But then it wasn’t just Connor you were thinking about. This is really about you and your own parents, no?”

Megan fell silent, her expression growing hard and cold as if a shutter had gone down behind her eyes, but he wasn't going to let this go. “It is, isn't it?” She didn't respond, even when he took hold of her shoulders and shook her gently. Obviously, she wanted him to back off, to leave her alone. But he knew this was too important to let go, he knew he had to force her out of her stony silence. “Talk to me, _cara_.” Deliberately, he added a sudden sharp edge to his voice, made it hit her like a whip, cold and merciless.

Megan cried out like a wounded animal. “Blight it, Zev, don't you see? I feel so horribly guilty!” When she finally met his gaze, her eyes were full of raw pain. "I can't even grieve for them. Knowing that they died in that horrible way to save me? Knowing that I ran off instead of staying with them and trying to save them?"

Zevran frowned. "Why would you feel guilty? Your parents _told_ you to leave, no? They wanted this, they needed you to be alive, if only to avenge them. It's not as if you went for selfish reasons."

"But I did!" Megan almost screamed the words. "Don't you see? Everyone tells me I'm not to blame, but _I_ know I am. _I_ know I wanted to leave, I was glad to get out of there. I was so scared of Howe's men and what they would do to us. Part of me-" She broke off, but when he gently nudged her, she continued, her voice bleak and hollow. "Part of me was relieved that they would be the ones to suffer, not I. And I can never forgive myself for that."

“I see.” And he did. Guilt was something Zevran understood intimately, probably better than she ever would. Still, wallowing in those feelings wouldn't do her any good. He forced himself to remain implacable, even though his heart was bleeding for her. "So, you think your will to survive makes you a bad person."

"No!" Megan cried out impatiently. "Or… yes, but it's not as stupid as you make it sound." She turned to face him, huffing in exasperation. "My survival wasn't the only thing that mattered. It shouldn't have been. They were my _parents_ , for Andraste's sake! And it was my duty to take care of them."

Zevran shook his head. "No. Your first duty was to take care of yourself, which, if I may say so, is a task you excel at, _cara_. And there's no reason to punish yourself for that," he quickly added, when he saw her flinch. "You are needed. You are important. You may well be the only one who has a chance to stop this Blight. Nothing would have been served if you had died that day at Highever."

"Still… I should at least have persuaded my mother to come with me. I could have saved her from Howe's men and whatever they did to her." Megan's face was contorted with pain.

Zevran took hold of her shoulders, making her look at him again. "That was her decision to make, not yours. You can't let yourself think about what happened to her, or what could have been different. You owe it to her to be strong."

"But I'm not." And finally, she broke down, tears streaming down her face. "I'm not strong. I'm weak, and I'm sick and tired of all this. I want my parents back. I want everything to be all right again."

Zevran held her, gently running his hand over her unruly mop of hair, over and over again, while muttering soothing nonsense in Antivan. She had been strong for so long, but he'd seen the symptoms in her, right from the start. He'd known she was desperately clamping down on some kind of sorrow, doing her best not to let anyone see it, because she had to function. It had been so glaringly obvious he didn't understand how the others couldn't see it. _Takes one to know one, I guess._

When she finally finished crying, she glanced up at him, swallowing hard. "Zev. Thank you."

Her face was red and scrunched up, and for a second, the expression in her eyes was wholly open and vulnerable, none of her customary shields in place. Zevran held his breath, suddenly scared he'd gone too far. Had he overstepped a line? Was she falling for him, was this _love_ he could see in her gaze? No, it couldn't be, he couldn't allow it. He'd been so careful not to awaken any hopes he couldn't fulfil, so careful to keep his distance.

"I'm sorry, _cara_." He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "If I could-"

But she was already smiling again through her tears. "No need to be sorry. You're the best friend I could ask for, really." Her tone was light as she kissed him back. "Ah, Zev. Such a pity we can't just fall in love, don't you think? Might make things so much easier."

Zevran felt a surge of relief flood him at this easy return to their customary banter. "I don't know, my sweet Warden." Lying back, he pulled her with him, hugging her gently. "In my experience, things rarely become easier when love is involved."

She laughed at this, bright and musical, and when he kissed her, light and sweet, she happily settled in his arms for the night. Tomorrow she'd be strong again, knowing he'd be there to help her carry the burden. _And that's as it should be,_ was his last thought before he succumbed to sleep. _That's what friends are for._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hugs and thanks to suilven for taking on yet another of my many writing projects. You are the best!


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